What the Single Dad Wants... by Marie Ferrarella Page A

the Riviera where your father and I honeymooned. Before I discovered he was a scoundrel.”She heaved a heartfelt sigh. And then, as if she’d suddenly been struck with this most original thought, she suggested, “Why don’t you have Isabelle go with you? She can be your sounding board.”
    â€œI don’t need a sounding board for a location, Mother,” he told her patiently, then reconsidered his words. “But I could use the company.” He turned toward Isa belle. “How about it? Are you up for a little aimless driving?”
    If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t just in search of a location. He was looking for a plot to go with that location and really hoped that the one—when he found something that moved him—would wind up triggering the other.
    It wouldn’t be the first time.
    Just what was happening here? Confused, Isabelle looked at the older woman. “I thought you said you wanted to push on.”
    Anastasia started to get down from the table, then hesitated, trying to decide which foot to put down first, the one that belonged to her brand-new hip, or the one where it was business as usual. After a beat, she held off on her decision.
    â€œI changed my mind,” Anastasia announced with a touch of haughtiness. Softening, she addressed the puzzled look on Isabelle’s face. “It’s what I do.”
    â€œYes, I know. Oh, so well,” Brandon couldn’t resist adding.
    â€œThat’ll be enough out of you,” his mother declared with an air of finality. She left no room for even the slightest argument. That done, the woman turned her attention to her physical therapist.
    â€œGo, get some fresh air. Renew your ‘juices,’ or whatever it is that you call them,” Anastasia ordered, wavingher hand toward the doorway. “You’re of no use to me if you’re exhausted when we start out.”
    Isabelle wasn’t sure what the actress was talking about. She had certainly never approached their sessions together with anything but bright enthusiasm and energy. It was one of her work principles to always be upbeat and positive with a client and to never allow them to become discouraged or, worse, to allow herself to behave in a discouraged manner around them. She was getting paid to help, not to whine.
    â€œBrandon,” she called, summoning him as she held out her hand in a gesture that was nothing short of regal. “Be a good boy and help your mother off the table.”
    â€œNow there’s a line I hope no one ever overhears,” he quipped to Isabelle. Coming to his mother’s side with sure, strong hands, he bracketed her body on either side. The next moment, he was scooping her off the tale as if Anastasia weighed perhaps fifty pounds.
    Upright and on her feet again, Anastasia slowly released her grip on the back of Brandon’s neck. “Thank you, dear. Now run along, both of you. I have some lines to run.”
    He looked at her suspiciously. His mother was a notoriously social creature who rarely did anything alone. “By yourself?”
    â€œNo,” Victoria said, coming into the room to see if her grandmother was ready yet. “Gemma asked me to cue her.”
    Brandon pretended not to care for the idea. “You’re just trying to brainwash my very levelheaded daughter and secretly turn her into an actress wannabe. Isn’t one in the family enough?”
    Anastasia merely shook her head, as if pitying someone who was so suspicious. The truth was, if hergranddaughter wanted to follow in her footsteps, she would have happily moved heaven and earth to make it happen.
    â€œI haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re babbling about, dear,” she told Brandon. “I have always been more than enough for my audiences and Victoria’s just helping me out by cuing me. Now go, shoo. You’re distracting me. Both of you.”
    Using the hand-carved cane that